


Insomniacs Unite

by Late_to_the_fandom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blogging, Grieving, Insomnia, M/M, fun with the People of Walmart, idiots falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 08:08:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16114346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Late_to_the_fandom/pseuds/Late_to_the_fandom
Summary: He was glaring at the clock again, just in time to see it change to an extra minute too.2:23 AMFucking insomnia.He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Might as well get some productive shit done since sleep was as elusive as ever.He grabbed the blanket and made his way to the small office, twisting the fabric until he resembled a burrito with arms. The light from the small desk lamp had him squinting and he blinked to clear the brightness, grabbing blindly for the mouse to wake up the computer.The machine came to life a few seconds later, opening to his Facebook page. He refreshed the page knowing full well there wouldn’t be anything new, the motions more reflex than actual interest, then closed the app after confirming he was the only one awake at this ungodly hour and opened his blog.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how a blog works so I took some artistic licence because I needed it to work the way it does in this story

He was glaring at the clock again, just in time to see it change to an extra minute too.

2:23 AM

Fucking insomnia.

 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Might as well get some productive shit done since sleep was as elusive as ever.

He grabbed the blanket and made his way to the small office, twisting the fabric until he resembled a burrito with arms. The light from the small desk lamp had him squinting and he blinked to clear the brightness, grabbing blindly for the mouse to wake up the computer.

The machine came to life a few seconds later, opening to his Facebook page. He refreshed the page knowing full well there wouldn’t be anything new, the motions more reflex than actual interest, then closed the app after confirming he was the only one awake at this ungodly hour and opened his blog.

 

He stared at the screen a moment, wanting to put a semblance of organisation to his jumbled thoughts, then just let the words flow.

The blog had first been created out of boredom, a way to just vent his frustrations about his stupid brain that could never shut up, but it had quickly garnered a respectable following. People enjoyed the way he put a humoristic spin on an otherwise bleary situation. He didn’t censor himself, preferring to be open and upfront about his issues and problems and his readers liked that about him, judging by the number of subscribers that kept steadily growing.

He put a lot of effort in what he wrote, going to great lengths with researching links to websites, medical magazines and books, all in the hopes that some one might find help where he was unable to. 

 

Every entry he logged was an honest retelling of his day, of a situation or state of mind that might have been a trigger. He’d been upfront with his attention deficit, the death of his mother and the stress of his remaining parent being in law enforcement. Everyone new by the many quotes and merchandise photo he posted that he was somewhat of a geek and that he considered his best friend his brother. He was mostly an open book and people appreciated it.

 

This night’s entry would be both similar and different from the others as it marked the anniversary of his mother’s death.


	2. Chapter 2

The crick in his neck was becoming uncomfortable so he wiggled backwards a bit until he sat slightly straighter against the headboard, laptop balanced on his stomach and knees slightly bent. He’d woken up in a cold sweat a few hours earlier, the same recurring nightmare making sure he would not get any sleep for the rest of the night.

 

He was currently reading from a blog he had found purely by luck. “ _Insomniacs Assemble_ ” had caught his interest, both because of the subject and the clearly geeky link to the Avengers, and he had been hooked just from reading the first paragraph. The snarky comments, the humour and the surprising insight the man had were refreshing. Even his name piqued his curiosity and he had set up an alert, so he’d be advised of new content being added by this Stiles person.  

 

Reading from the beginning, he made his way slowly, reading every entry, looking at every photo and basically being a virtual creeper. In a world were everyone was into instant gratification and fake appearances Stiles’ candor was refreshing and fascinating and he wanted to know more.

 

~~~

_My Mother died when I was nine years old._

_The panic attacks started when I realized that my whole world had just exploded, and nothing would ever be the same._

_Bed time routines_

_Baking cookies_

_Catching fireflies_

_Hugs and kisses and cuddles_

_Nothing left of her, of us._

_That spring my dad found solace in a bottle. In many bottles really. He eventually got help and found his way out. I had to fend for myself for a while, had to be a grown up and take care of him, of the house, of myself and I did a lot of growing up in a short amount of time._

_I cried myself to sleep every night._

_One day I broke down while at my friend Scott’s. We were having a sleep over and suddenly the floodgates opened, and everything came out. His mother smothered me in the tightest hug I’d had since mom passed. After what felt like an eternity she put her coat on, kissed my forehead and left for a few hours. When she came back she made us hot cocoa and we watched movies until we passed out on the couch._

_The next morning, we made our way down to find my dad sitting in her kitchen, hands wrapped so tightly around a coffee mug his knuckles were white. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and I felt my own start to fill. I remember shaking so badly, filled with uncertainty and fear, and dad grabbed me by the neck and pulled me to him._

_We cried together, and he whispered how sorry he was for leaving me to deal with my grief on my own. It took Scott’s mom laying into him and reminding him I was just a child and he could not let me go through this on my own._

_That day marked a complete 360 in our relationship and today we are closer than ever. Sometimes I wonder where we would be if I hadn’t broken down that day…._

 

 

Derek closed his eyes and pictured Stiles at that age, alone in his grief, scared of the unknown. A wave of sadness and sorrow submerged him, and he let himself cry, knowing too well how that felt.  He grabbed a few tissues from the box on the bedside table to blot his eyes and blow his nose.

Then, taking a deep breath, he composed a message he hoped was heartfelt and would offer a bit of solace.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles was doing research on a few web pages from Universities specializing in sleep issues, looking for information on insomnia when a pinging informed him that an email came in. He was about to switch from the blog’s page to Hotmail when he noticed the widget indicating he had a new message which he promptly opened.

 

He quickly scanned the note, thinking it was the usual “thank you” from a reader. It clearly was not so he reread the message slower, absorbing the actual words.

 

_Hello Stiles,_

_I just discovered your blog today while surfing the net trying to distract myself from another sleepless night. I first thought it would be like so many others out there, full of self-centeredness or geared towards a more medical public.  Boy was I wrong!_

_I find you refreshing and quite amusing and I highly enjoy your snarky and sarcastic side._

_I hesitated writing to you mostly because I’m sure that by now you’ve had more than your fair share of people saying they are sorry for your loss._

_I decided to just say what I felt in my gut as I have lost so much myself and I understand the pain and how it molded you into who you are today._

_I lost most of my family to a fire when I was a teenager. Both my parents, my younger sister and brother and assorted uncles, aunts and cousins died that day._

_Fifteen family members all gone at the same time, only leaving my older sister and myself._

_When I say I get it, I GET it and I can honestly say I am truly sorry for your loss._

_Now I will go back to reading you as I have a lot of content to go through!!_

_Take care_

_Derek_

He was perplexed by the warm feeling in his chest. It was not the first time he’d received condolences from an absolute stranger but the fact that this man had had it even worse than him and still was able to feel the pain of others indicated a strength of character he had rarely encountered.

He thought about what to reply, taking the time to formulate what he wanted to say without things becoming too heavy then let his fingers fly across the keyboard.


	4. Chapter 4

He jolted awake to the sound of his phone shrilling, the ringtone indicating it was Laura. Dragging a hand over his face he grabbed blindly for the device, finding it buried in the mess of bed sheets and comforter. The noise finally stopped, his sister presumably lost patience in waiting on him to answer.  The thing started vibrating with each text message received. His sister was an asshole sometimes. He peeled his eyelids open and groaned against the light filtering in the room, thumbing the app to see what the emergency was.

 

He bolted upright in a panic after reading the first message. He’d forgotten about the board meeting and had not set an alarm and we was due in the office in forty-two minutes. He scrambled from the bed and rushed to the bathroom, turning the shower on and relieving his bladder while the water warmed. He calculated that he could make it in time by skipping the daily detour for coffee and shot off a text to Laura asking her to bring him is usual and something to eat. He showered quickly and ran back in the bedroom to get dressed, reading through emails and tooth brush clamped between his teeth. He grabbed the laptop and charger from the bed and was out the door under twenty minutes.

 

He made it to the office with only a few minutes to spare and the day went downhill from there. An international call came in mid meeting to inform them that their offices in New York had been razed by a fire and he had been mandated to fly east to act as main representative. He’d barely had the time to go home to pack a bag before having to head back out to the airport for the next red-eye to the big apple.  

 

He sat in his seat, tie askew and hair dishevelled, and drank from the tumbler of hard liquor. What a cluster fuck of a day. He rubbed his eyes and chin and exhaled deeply, thanking the gods that there had been room in first class. He hated flying but cramped his six feet frame in a too small space for the next five hours would have been the worst type of torture. He leaned the seat back, tried to relax and get some sleep.

 

He was awoken by a flight attendant shaking his shoulder. He blinked at her, disoriented and barely awake. She looked at him expectantly and repeated that he had to buckle his seat belt as they were readying for landing. He pulled his seat upward and complied, hoping he would have a small reprieve from the awaiting cluster fuck. First class exited first and the fact that he only had a carry on meant he was out of the airport and in the waiting limo within a few minutes. Refraining from checking his emails during the ride to the hotel was not easily done but he managed, knowing full well he’d be neck deep in unending noise brought on by the impending messes. He enjoyed the quiet through check in, during the fifteen floors elevator ride and until he’d taken a long, warm and cleansing shower.

 

He was standing near the bed naked, a fluffy towel around his hips when a knock at the door announced room service. He opened the door to a young man who carefully pushed in a cart and left with a curt nod. He smiled at the aroma of fresh coffee and warm croissants. The grumbling of his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in the last fifteen hours and he pulled the trolley closer to himself as he sat on the bed. He ate slowly, savoring the pastries and the coffee, knowing that once he opened his emails the peace would come crumbling down.  He basked in the silence a while longer, then started getting dressed in preparation of facing the up-coming days. He held off on turning his phone on until he was safely sitting in a cab in the middle of the morning rush hour.


	5. Chapter 5

Closing the door with one foot, he dropped his keys on the console, his bag on the floor then toed of his Vans. He shuffled to the couch and let himself drop backwards, sprawling on the cushions with his feet hanging over the armrest and stared at the ceiling, pondering how was this his life. The last few days had been unbelievably boring, and he was happy the week was over. He knew from experience that this time of the year would be sluggish, as though the entire world had been paused but the reality struck him as being pure torture. There was no way his ADHD would let him enjoy this like any sane person would.

 

He eventually made his way to the kitchen and started diner. Once he’d eaten and had cleared the dishes he found himself surfing the net and checking his social media. He Facetimed Scott for a bit then brought his laptop to the couch where he settled in and wondered about what to update his blog with. There was so little going on that he was still looking for material to write about and he was coming up short. He did not feel like going into the heavier technical and medical stuff and, since he had been sleeping correctly for the last four nights, he didn’t even have anything to complain or rant about.

 

He decided on posting his own personal review of the latest Marvel movie: Ant man and The Wasp then added a commentary and pics of great geeky merchandise he’d found on his last shopping outing. There was also that gem of a situation that would no doubt be a fantastic story to tell so he sat hunched over the coffee table, grinning while typing away and having too much fun with it all. He knew without a doubt that it would make his readers laugh and would generate a lot of clicks and exchanges accompanied by photos that would probably be epic. 

This was a fantastic way to end an otherwise tedious day. 


	6. Chapter 6

Groaning loudly, he crashed face first on the bed. He’d been working almost around the clock, grabbing a few hours of sleep every night only to go back the following morning. The HR director had kicked him out, stating that he was not to show his face until the following afternoon.  He rolled to his back and rubbed his hands on his face, noting that he needed a shave, a shower, a meal and probably a week of sleep, not necessarily in that order. He forced himself up, took off his suit jacket and dropped it on the nearest chair. Taking the few steps to the bathroom, he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the floor. His trousers and boxers ended up on the bathroom tiles. He stayed under the warm spray until the tension in his shoulders diminished. He dried off quickly and padded back to the bed where he burrowed deeply under the down comforter and promptly fell asleep.

 

He woke up disoriented with a grumbling stomach but feeling refreshed.  He sat up and stretched the kinks out of his neck while debating if he wanted to go down to the restaurant. He opted out of having to get dressed so he pulled out the room-service menu and, as he was ravenous, ordered the biggest breakfast they had and a pot of coffee.

Deciding against doing any work he booted up his lap-top and checked his social media. He eventually opened the browser to Stiles’ blog and noticed a bunch of new entries and a message in his in-box.   It had been 3 days since he last logged on, so he started with the latest news and once again Stiles made his day, just by being who he was.

 

_So, it’s been boring as hell at work so there isn’t much for me to rant about._

_Just saw Antman and the Wasp and decided to write you a really short review._

_I really liked the first one, so my expectations were high, and I was not disappointed! There was the right amount of action, stuff that blew up and comedy to make it great entertainment. Plus, Paul Rudd. Need I say more??_

_I give it two thumbs up so go see it!_

_On a different note, I’ve bene sleeping well for the last few nights and it feels great. I’ve learned to not overanalyze things (ok, ok stop with the eye rolls !!) so I’m not looking into the whys and hows and I’m just being happy about it._

_I hope you‘ve had some luck in getting a good night’s sleep too!_

He smiled at that, knowing too well how shitty insomnia can make one feel. He sent a quick reply accompanied by a few pics of the latest Lego Brick heads he had purchased, knowing Stiles would appreciate them.  He kept on scrolling through the entries while waiting for his brunch.

 

The following text had him laughing so much he was crying.

 

_I went to Walmart today._

_I have nothing against shopping there and sometimes truly phenomenal things happen within those walls._

_For those who know me, you know I am rarely speechless (I blame my ADHD for that) and I always have a comeback or sarcastic reply to almost anything._

_Well, today I saw the most magical thing ever. I am still speechless. Really._

_So, I was pushing my cart minding, my own business and strolling down the aisles when I saw a woman cut across a few aisles down._

_I subtly made my way over, drawn by the red of her dress, her nice figure and her fabulous mane, and entered the hair care section after her. She was standing towards the end of the row, so I pretended to look at different brands, and made my way slowly towards her, still pretending to look at the different styling products. She had great hair, so I tried to see what she was buying when she suddenly turned, looked up at me and I was met by one of the greatest full beards I’ve ever seen._

_I have never been so scared at being caught almost red handed. I feigned indifference and continued past him/her (do I even know??) and went to hide in the pet section as quickly as possible without running. Understand that I do not judge anyone’s life choices, being bisexual would make me such an hypocrite anyway, but that just threw me off. He was clearly not a Drag queen and he had an amazing figure but let me tell you, the red lipstick does nothing for the beard…._

He quickly sent an Email to his sister, requesting she send him a photo she had taken a few months prior and waited for it before he replied. It would be a great complement to Stiles’ story. 

There was a knock at the door and he went quickly to retrieve his food, pushing the trolley near the table and sat, pouring a cup and taking a few bites of the eggs and sausages. He opened Cora’s email the moment his phone pinged and composed a message, attaching said photo and hitting send. He smiled so much he had a hard time properly chewing his food, but he couldn’t help himself

    

He clicked on the message sitting in the inbox last. He felt a tightness in his chest and a pang of overwhelming feelings at the words he was reading, and he absentmindedly rubbed a fist along his solar plexus.  

 

_Derek,_

_There are no words to express how sad I am at how much both of our lives have sucked. Losing my mom was debilitating for a long while, until I grew up a bit and learned to live again. Your story is so much worst and I’m in awe of your strength. The fact that you are still standing and are a highly functioning person after all that trauma is outstanding._

_To cite a famous person “I GET it” ;)_

_If you ever need to talk about it, don’t hesitate to contact me. Sometimes it only takes someone who knows how it feels to understand and I can be that person._

_Stiles_


	7. Chapter 7

He was having way too much fun with the post about the man in the red dress.  It had generated a lot of clicks and a few readers had even sent out photos about their own “special” encounters. He particularly liked the photo that just popped up on his screen. It showed a man wearing SpongeBob boxers, knee high white tube socks, the ones with 2 blue bands at the top, cowboy boots and sporting a fantastic mullet that almost reached his waist. It was accompanied by a short caption: the people of Walmart rule!!     

 

He snorted so hard, he had to stop the sip of cola he had just taken from spewing from his nose. He swallowed it and burst out laughing, wiping at his eyes so he could continue reading. Every post on which Derek replied was interesting and he found himself liking the guy even though they only corresponded through his blog. They shared more than their tragic past and he’d wondered more than once if a friendship would develop if they ever met.

 

The fact that he was totally his type only added fuel to his fantasies. He often daydreamed about him, wondering if his pale green eyes darkened in passion and if his beard would scratch if they kissed. He’d love to card his fingers in his hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. He shook himself, knowing that as much as he’d like to push things in that direction he had to keep it professional. His success and his name were both on the line and he would never jeopardise himself by being too forward. Derek was probably not even in California so the chances they’d meet were slim to non-existent anyway. He huffed at the thought and closed the browser, his lunch break close to being over


	8. Chapter 8

_Some months later_

The summer was almost over, the sweltering heat had finally broken and was slowly transitioning into the cooler weather of fall. The last few weeks had been hectic; his workload had left him ridiculously swamped. July and August had been brutal, but he was happy he had taken the next two weeks off for a well-earned vacation. The first thing he had done after clocking out come Friday afternoon was to meet Scott and a few of their friends for cocktail hour. He ended up having a couple of drinks too many and had been driven home by a less than happy Scott whose romantic evening with his girlfriend had to be postponed due to him being drunk on his ass. He'd made it up to them by paying for a meal at their favorite restaurant and movie tickets. Scott had harrumphed when they hugged it out, the lopsided grin he tried to hide a clear indication that he was no longer mad at him. 

 

The next morning found him nursing his hangover, and a migraine, while lazing around his apartment in his pyjamas. He grabbed a cup of coffee and went to sit on the couch, clicking a few tabs and getting up to date on world events while sipping the warm brew. He then cleaned out his inbox and read through the backlog of his blog which he had been neglected a bit. He had made sure to update his page at least once a week to keep his readers interested and entertained but he knew it was not nearly as close to the daily posts he usually uploaded. He had explained his work situation and that he wouldn’t be as active for a while, but he had made sure to still be visible lest he lose his followers. Truth be told, the main reason he had done so was to stay in contact with Derek. Blogging was a lot more work than people imagined, but he enjoyed it, so he always treated that part of his life and the people in it with respect. His words were impacting lives and he owed his readers the truth, so he tried to be as transparent as possible while keeping is private life private. The bonus was that he got to know Derek a bit more with every email they exchanged. He smiled when he saw that there were three new messages in his inbox and he opened the oldest one first.

 

_Hey,_

_Hope you’re surviving your personal hell ;)_

_Went shopping and thought of you._

_Did I ever tell you I can’t help but laugh every time I see a red dress???_

_Yeah, you ruined that for me._

_Lol_

 

 

The second email was just a photograph taken in New York. Derek had captured the sun setting in a particularly spectacular way, the colors reflecting off the urban landscape in a display that was somewhat magical. He felt that no words were needed, and he replied with a heart eyes emoji. Derek rarely spoke about his family and he was a bit taken by surprise when he clicked on the third one to find a news clipping about a new building inauguration featuring a group portrait in which Derek was standing close to two women sharing similar features. It was accompanied by a short comment: I’ve been busting my ass on this for longer than I care to admit…

 

The rumbling of his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten breakfast, so he logged off and flipped his computer closed. He got up and shuffled to the kitchen, drawing his arms above his head to stretch his back, grunting when the joints popped. He was halfway there when the sudden blaring of _I Shot the Sherriff,_ dragging like nails on a blackboard in his head, had him detouring to the bedroom where he’d left his phone charging on the night stand. He took the call, chatting a couple of minutes with his dad and inviting himself for dinner that evening in the process. It was a better option than eating some frozen crap from his freezer anyway, so he decided he’d treat his old man to barbecued steaks and cold beers. The Sherriff would be home around six, so he had ample time to get himself out of his alcohol induced haze by doing a few chores and take a well cleansing hot shower.

 

~~~

His dad’s cruiser was already in the driveway when he got there, and he parked his jeep alongside. He grabbed the few bags from the back seat and entered his childhood home, calling out for the Sheriff which was nowhere to be found. He dropped the food on the kitchen counter and made his way to the back door where he found him fiddling with the grill. They exchanged bone crushing hugs and did a quick bit of catching up then he got sent inside to prepare the meat and fix a salad. He had bent his “healthy food” rule and had included a loaf of French bread which he put in the oven and brought the steaks out while it warmed.  

 

Both men decided on eating in the living room so they could watch the Mets’ televised game, commenting and yelling at the umpires’ poor decisions. Stiles loved these moment where he could just enjoy his father in a purely selfish way. Noting work related was discussed, no help needed on a sticky case, just a father/son moment. They’d talked some more over coffee and apple pie and towards the end of the evening the Sherriff had told him a bit awkwardly that he wanted to do something special to mark the tenth anniversary of Stiles’ mother’s passing. He had decided on planting flowers on her grave and wanted his thoughts on which ones she would have liked. They tossed ideas around and eventually agreed on miniature rose bushes which were her favorite.

 

~~~

 

He got up early Tuesday morning and made his way to the nearest nursery where, after talking at lengths with the owner about what his best choices were, he purchased two healthy shrubs sporting many unopened buds. The woman had given him specific and detailed instructions on how to care for the plants in order for them to be in full bloom for the anniversary two weeks away. Equipped with a shovel, a bag of manure and a jug of water he made his way slowly along the path leading to the section where his mother was interred and got busy.

 

After an hour he sat back on his heels and examined his work, the small rosebushes standing guard on each side of her head stone . Smiling fondly, he let his fingertips trace the letters engraved on the granite. The words were familiar, the small hollow that was still lodged in his chest would never be completely filled but he had reached a place where he could be here without losing his shit. He gathered his tools and sat on the grass, immersing himself in the tranquility and peace that the cemetery offered. There was a soft breeze ruffling the leaves of the old oaks and birds chirping in the branches.

 

He could hear crying near by and he remembered hating it when people saw him bawl on his mother’s grave. He peeked quickly to see a man sitting in front of a wall engraved with many inscriptions, deep soul wrenching sobs erupting from his chest. There wasn’t much he could do so he pretended he was alone, leaving him to his grief. His phone vibrated in the pocket of his hoodie so he pulled it out, thumbing the device a few times to open the new message.

 

_I’m feeling so fucking lost right now._

_It’s the 15th anniversary._

_I’m at the cemetery sitting in front of their gravestone and I can’t stop crying._

_I don’t even know what I need but just knowing you understand is helping._

_D._

Stiles frowned at the screen and looked up at the man sitting a few yards away. Could it be? Was this only a coincidence? They had never exchanged information on where they were from, but the world can be a really small place after all.  Writing a quick reply, he then peered at the guy to see if he’d pick up his phone and he was surprised when he did. He picked up his belongings and walked over, wondering what to say. He didn’t know if this was indeed the same Derek he’d been talking to for close to six months but If it wasn’t he’d figure something out. He stopped a couple of feet away, cleared his throat to make himself known and said Derek’s name softly.


	9. Chapter 9

He was having a hard time keeping his emotions manageable, his head was pounding, and his chest was throbbing. He detested these milestone anniversaries, the void they left in him would last a few days, leaving him bereft. Debating if he should send an email to Stiles he fidgeted with his phone then did just that. He was surprised and somewhat relieved when he got a reply almost instantaneously.

_Derek,_

_I’m so sorry to hear you’re struggling right now._

_I just planted roses on my mother’s grave, I feel your sorrow and I wish I could do more._

A shadow fell on him and he looked up to see a young man standing near.

“Derek?” the man’s voice was soft and soothing, the tone you would take to speak to young children or frightened animals. He nodded uncertainly, brows furrowed, and eyes still filled with tears. “I’m Stiles.” Derek found himself standing in a blink of an eye. He swallowed thickly, his bottom lip trembling as he looked into the dark honey pools of Stiles’ eyes. When Stiles pulled him closer with an arm around his shoulders and the other wrapped around his waist he fell into the much-needed hug as though it had been his destination to begin with.    

 

The flood gates opened, and he wept unabashedly, his chin hooked over Stiles’ shoulder as his heart broke again in his chest. Stiles arms were a band of comfort around his shuddering body, the solace of the gesture was a balm on his tormented soul. He lost track of the time they spent like that, just standing as Stiles rubbed circles on his back. After what seemed to be hours but probably was only minutes he was able to regain a semblance of control and took a deep breath. Then another. And another.  Stiles loosened his grip, but he did not let go, waiting for him to make the first move to disengage himself.

 

He took a step back and looked at the young man sheepishly, feeling the blush creeping along his cheeks. They slowly let go of each other and sat awkwardly on the stone bench. He rubbed a hand along the back of his head, ruffling his already mussed up hair as he spoke in a raspy voice. “Thank you for that.”  Stiles smiled softly. “Don’t mention it, I’m happy you didn’t have to go through that alone.”

 

He looked up at the wall in front of them, searching in his pockets for tissues to wipe his face and blow his nose, while wondering how this could happen. Stiles voice broke his thoughts and he realized he’d spoken the words. “Dude, the world is a small place and fate works in curious ways. Don’t worry, I didn’t know you were from California, much less Beacon Hills, I’m not being all stalkerish here.” He bumped his shoulder, a grin on his face. “What do you say to getting out of here and grabbing a coffee?”

 

He nodded as he stood, and they ambled across the short grass towards the parking lot.  Stiles stopped at an old, light blue Jeep, dropped his tools on the back seat and turned in Derek’s direction. They looked at each other for a fraction of a second then grinned uncomfortably. The loud laugh that erupted from Stiles broke some of the tension. “Dude, this is so awkward! We know each other but at the same time we don’t and it’s so damn weird. Are you okay with the Café on Elm Street?” Fishing his keys from his pocket he dipped his head as he replied. “Sure, I’ll follow you there.” He watched the young man climb into the deathtrap he called a car and made his way to his own vehicle.


	10. Chapter 10

The ride from the cemetery to the restaurant took about ten minutes in which he let himself have a freak-out. Derek was way more attractive in person and he knew there was big fat chance he would make a fool of himself. He was loud and had a big mouth, most people taking that as a sign that he was confident and really outgoing when the truth was quite the opposite. He was socially awkward when confronted with someone he found attractive and he had a tendency of saying every tiny, stupid and insignificant tidbit of information that would flitter through his brain.

So yeah, time to angst a bit before he got there.

The only thing he had in his favor was that they were not complete strangers and they knew enough stuff about each other that he could talk about something boringly safe.

He could _do this_ and not seem a fool.  He hoped.           

 

He parked in the small municipal lot near the café and got out of his Jeep, waiting for Derek to exit his own vehicle.  Of course, the man had to drive a sleek, black, muscle car which suited him way more than it should. He smirked at him over the top. “Nice car”. He suspected that Derek was glaring at him, but his reaction was partially hidden by his sunglasses. There might even have been an eye roll behind there, but he wasn’t certain. “Before you ask, no, I don’t have anything to compensate for.” Derek deadpanned. He threw his head back and guffawed at his expression, the sound pulling at the corners of Derek’s mouth.

 

They crossed the street and chatted as they walked down the block to the small establishment. He paid for their order and they sat at a corner table, both wary and mostly nervous.

Unable to let the silence make thing even more uncomfortable he just did what he was good at and started babbling. “Can you believe we live in the same town and never even crossed paths? I’ve been wondering for months if we’d be friends if we ever got the chance to meet in person.” Drawing the cup to his lips he blew gently and took a sip. “I, ah… I tend to ramble when I’m nervous.  So, erm… please let me know if I’m getting on your nerves?” Derek was looking at him funny, not funny Ha Ha, just as though he wasn’t sure about what was going on exactly.  When his face lit up as he smiled he felt the bottom of his stomach drop. “It’s fine although I don’t get why you’re nervous.  We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well, I think. Heck, you know things about me no one else does.”

 

God, he was gorgeous. He felt himself getting flustered and he new he was doomed when his brain to mouth filter just failed him again. “Are you kidding me?” He waved a hand, motioning to all that was Derek. “Dude, all of that is distracting and _…oh my god!”_ His eyes grew as big as saucers as he slapped a hand over his mouth, groaning as he realized what he just did. _“I can’t believe I just said all that out loud!_ ”  All the blood just left his face to pool in the pit of his stomach and he wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

 

Derek just gaped at him. Stiles was mentally kicking himself until he noticed the red that was creeping up from the collar of his shirt. It continued up to his cheeks and disappeared in his hair line.  The blush was instantaneous, turning him a bright shade of peony pink and Stiles stopped twitching for a moment. They stared at each other, the silence stretching a few seconds until Derek’s face started doing weird things. His mouth pinched, and his eyebrows scrunched, went neutral then hiked up his forehead.  Stiles looked on in fascination at the impressive eyebrow display before him until Derek exploded in a fit of giggles.

  

He laughed for a good two minutes then tried to stop himself. It was apparent that he was not having any success, so he just sat back and waited him out, a grin on his own face. Derek’s laughter was contagious and soon many customers were laughing along. He eventually winded down, wiping his eyes with a paper napkin while taking deep breaths. Once he had himself under control he looked at Stiles straight in the eye and blurted “I’ve been acting nonchalant, but I was just trying really hard not to ogle your ass and your stupidly cute face.”

 

Stiles found this to be the most stupid and hilarious thing to have happened to him in recent memory. He leaned forward, grabbed Derek by the tie and pulled him until he was close enough to kiss. If the patrons cheered and catcalled well, who was he to complain?

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not satisfied with the ending and I'm thinking of ways to change it so it's better.   
> Any suggestions are welcome


End file.
